


High Places

by howterrifying



Series: The Denial Mode Series [19]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlolly - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:48:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24020050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howterrifying/pseuds/howterrifying
Summary: Sherlock returns to establish Molly's position in his life.(written 9 May 2015)
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & Molly Hooper, Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Series: The Denial Mode Series [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1732471
Kudos: 55





	High Places

**Author's Note:**

> The Denial Mode Series began in the midst of me struggling to get through my soap opera of a multi-chapter fic, The Admirer. In between, as a sort of refresher, and also as my way of ‘denying’ I had stuff to work on, I would call out for these prompts. The call was to either send me a single word or a single song. I received all sorts of lovely responses and these are the stories that developed from them. They mean a lot to me and I remember every single one of them from just looking at their titles. I hope you will enjoy them as much as I enjoyed writing them. :) x
> 
> ::
> 
> Anonymous asked: Molly moves to another place after the whole Fauxiarty business. their reunion after an year or so, perhaps?
> 
> I have combined this prompt with flavialikestodraw’s song prompts for me. She asked for PJ Harvey’s “You Said Something” and Nick Cave’s “Into My Arms”. Both are ridiculously beautiful but I was especially enamoured with the PJ Harvey one. What a dreamy, pensive love song! My heart could scarcely take it. Anyway, I hope you will enjoy this and that I captured all the right feelings :) x
> 
> “We lean against railings  
> Describing the colors  
> And the smells of our homelands  
> Acting like lovers  
> How did we get here  
> To this point of living?  
> I held my breath  
> And you said something.”

**High Places**

It was for her safety that she had been relocated. Had it been any other situation, Molly would have protested the move, but when Mycroft himself came to speak to her, to coax her to leave England, she relented. No one cared more for her than he did, and she knew better than to argue with someone like him.

“You’re a very formidable person, Molly,” Mycroft had said, “But so is this enemy of ours. I should not like to lose someone like you.”

Everything had been arranged for her and before she could even say goodbye to anyone, she found herself on a plane to New York. Mycroft had found her a similar post in a hospital there, and kept her under constant surveillance. When she had deemed the surveillance unnecessary, he reminded her that while Moriarty - or whichever incarnation of this madman was - was physically in England waging war with them, the criminal mastermind’s reach was not one that was geographically bound.

“I owe it to _you_ , to keep you alive, Molly.” he had said, “Please. You saved my brother. It is the least I can do.”

His brother — the thought of him was a complicated one. Molly thought of Sherlock most on her breaks, when she would sneak up to the hospital rooftop with a styrofoam cup of coffee in her hand. There was something refreshing about being up high, about having the wind in one’s face. It was a little chilly this evening, but it still did the trick. Molly had forgotten how sleep-deprived she was feeling, and the little tension headache she was nursing seemed to have dissipated.

It was a little hard to believe that a year had passed. The effects of it were there though. She had made a few good friends, her little apartment was beginning to feel like home and she had even found a favourite bakery. All these were little things that told her she had finally started to settle down. It felt good, and she felt safe. Once in a while, she would recognise a few familiar faces, signs of Mycroft keeping tabs on her, but it made her smile. It was nice to be reminded of home, no matter how strangely the reminders were presented.

Tonight, she had just finished her lab reports and was savouring a short break before her shift at the morgue began. She sipped slowly from a cup of clam chowder and was glad of the warmth it was providing. She looked out at the scenery ahead of her, and then stole a peek down at the street below. Looking down always sent a shot of melancholy through her. It made her think of Sherlock, and what might have run through his head before he ‘jumped’.

Did she still love the man? Perhaps. Moving away from home was, in part, a gesture of her love for him. If it made things less dangerous, if it made the case easier to solve, Molly would have flown to outer space if she had to. Looking down at the blur of lights and passing cars was her litmus test. It was her way of seeing if she still loved him - at least for that moment. She smirked at the answer for the day. They would never be a part of each other’s lives anymore, so there really was no point in feeling that way.

Molly checked her watch and saw she had ten minutes left to her shift. Sighing, she took her empty cup and turned to make for the stairwell. As she walked towards the little black door, it opened suddenly, causing her to step back in shock. There was nothing more unnerving than running into someone with the expectation of being the only person there.

“You’ve cut your hair,” she said, unable to stop a small smile.  
“Just a trim.” answered the tall man in his instantly recognisable coat, “It was for a case.”  
“Looks good,” she remarked, not realising how tightly she was gripping her cup.  
“Thank you,” he answered with a half-smile of his own.

He walked over to her and prised the cup from her death grip. She laughed when she realised how tightly she had been holding it and watched as he tossed it in an empty cardboard box that had been lying around.

“Stressed?” he asked, walking to stand by the ledge of the rooftop they were on.  
“More shocked than stressed, really.” she answered, moving to stand beside him.

The breeze up where they were quickened and swept Molly’s hair into her eyes. She quickly pushed the unruly wisps from her face and attempted to re-tie her hair. Her hands moved deftly, sweeping her long brown hair into a neat ponytail. Sherlock watched her quietly as she battled with the wind in her hair, and smiled to himself.

It was _really_ good to see her.

“You left this bit out,” he said, reaching to control a few brown wisps, tucking them behind her ear.

When she was done, she turned to face him. She never thought she would see him again. This was most unexpected, and rather lovely.

“I’ve cancelled your shift at the morgue, by the way,” he said matter-of-factly, turning around to lean his back against the parapet.

His words made Molly chuckle. She shook her head and folded her arms, turning to glare at him with a mix of amusement and affection.

“I haven’t seen you in _one year_ and the first thing you do is cancel my shift at work,” she chided but grinned the entire time.   
“Just interrupting your life,” he said with a smirk, “As is my modus operandi.”  
“I certainly didn’t miss that,” she said, with a laugh.

The detective smiled as he gazed at her, secretly delighting in the fact that she was smiling. Seeing her safe, happy and out of harm’s way gave him more satisfaction than he had imagined it would.

“How did you manage to pull that off _here_ anyway?” she asked, “This isn’t your…territory.”  
“I have friends in high places.” he answered a little smugly.  
“God, you make me want to punch you, you know?” she remarked, amused.  
“I know,” he answered, smiling in return.

They stood in silence for a bit, with only the distant honking of cars and the slight whistle of the cold air interrupting them. Standing around each other in absolute silence was certainly not uncommon practice for them. Had not their whole working relationship been founded on silence, and standing around?

“So, um…” he paused to clear his throat, “Now that you’re shift’s been cancelled…”  
“Y-es?” she responded, raising an eyebrow.  
“Have you…any plans?” he asked. His words were starting to jam in his brain.  
“Well, since I’d only _just_ cancelled it…I hadn’t thought about it,” she said with a smirk.

He laughed quietly and wrapped his coat a little tighter around himself. The sharp wind was starting to get to him.

“Should we go somewhere warm?” he asked.  
“ _We_?” Molly asked, eyeing him with amusement.  
“I’m staying at a rather lovely hotel,” he said, “It’s certainly warmer than out here.”  
“I also have a rather lovely flat,” she said, “It’s warmer, and far cosier than a hotel room, I imagine.”  
“Good. That’s settled then.” he said, straightening from the parapet and adjusting his coat.  
“What is?” she asked, folding her arms again.  
“We’re headed to your place,” he said, with a smile.

Molly shook her head and smiled. It was her turn to lean against the parapet as she looked up at him.

“Come on, lead the way,” he whispered, moving to stand in front of her.

His handsome face loomed over hers, and the proximity sent a wave of nostalgia through her bones. His face was gentle, and he had that subtle smile of his that could only be seen up close. What little light that shone from the city around them reflected as little specks in his eyes.

“I don’t see you for one year,” she repeated, smirking, “And you’re already barging your way into my flat?”  
“I always barge my way into your flat,” he quipped, “I was just held up a bit.”  
“You’re a very funny man, Sherlock Holmes,” said Molly.  
“So I’ve been told,” he quipped.  
“Well, if you’re so clever…”  
“Yes?”  
“Find your own way there,” she whispered, patting the lapel of his coat before walking away.

—

After having confirmed that her shift really had been cancelled, Molly made her way back to her apartment. It was just a short bus ride away and a five-minute walk to get to her building. As she turned the key in her doorknob, she was actually rather grateful for the time off. She had not realised how exhausted she really was until then. So exhausted was she that she had half-forgotten the reason she had the time off in the first place.

Molly kicked off her shoes, put her bag down on the first surface she could find and sauntered into her bedroom. Rubbing the back of her neck, her fingers felt for the light switch and flipped it on. She gasped when she saw Sherlock Holmes, in his crisp white shirt and dark trousers, lying down casually on her bed.

“You’re home,” he said, sitting up.  
“Well, this feels familiar,” she smirked, undoing her hair.

Molly removed her coat and jumper, and sank into bed with a sigh. Looking up, she saw Sherlock Holmes staring down at her. His eyes were bright, blazing almost. She lifted her hand to touch his face, and could not help but smile warmly at him. It amazed her to see that he returned the smile. His smile was not cocky, or smug. Instead, it was soft and warm too.

“Look at you, barging your way into my life again,” she said, stroking his cheekbone with her fingers.  
“I was going to make a joke about barging my way into your _bed_ ,” he said, igniting laughs in the both of them.

It was his turn to place a gentle hand on the side of her face, gently remembering the feel of her skin against his fingers. She tilted her face slightly to softly kiss the fingers before they slowly trailed down the side of her neck. 

“I would have liked to hear your joke,” she said, smiling at him, “Would’ve been a first.”

He chuckled softly and reached to sweep her hair away from her neck. He leaned down and kissed the side of it, shutting his eyes to capture the sensation. He then sat up again and fiddled with the collar of her blouse.

“I’m not very good at jokes,” he said, smiling down at her.  
“No, you probably aren’t…” Molly said with a laugh.  
“I was dead serious anyway,” he quipped.

Molly laughed against his lips that met with hers in a kiss that evoked strong, almost painful memories for both. Her laughter turned to a quiet, bittersweet desperation for him as he too, kissed her with all the yearning he had concealed.

“So, what now?” she asked, her heart racing as their lips parted.  
“I don’t know,” he whispered, “Would you come back?”  
“Could I?” she asked back.  
“Of course,” he said, kissing the side of her face, “We could go back now if you wanted.”  
“And _how_ are we going to do that?” she asked with a laugh.  
“I told you. I have friends in high places…” he said, grinning.  
“Of course you do,” she said, getting up and pushing him playfully away.

She got up and straightened her blouse, standing by the edge of her bed. Sherlock remained seated on her bed, eyeing her quizzically.

“Tell me something,” she said, moving to his side of the bed.  
“Anything,” he said.

Molly smirked and climbed carefully onto him. Sherlock very gladly reached to hold her by the hips, letting her straddle him comfortably. Her hair cascaded beautifully around her, causing the detective’s heart to lurch slightly in his chest.

“What place do I have then? In all of this?” she asked quietly.

At her question, a small smile played on his lips. With both hands, he drew her face to his and kissed her.

“The highest of them all,” he whispered as he took her into his arms, promising never to let anything separate them again.

**END**


End file.
